


i'm hooked on you (and the blood running through your veins)

by hxe7s



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, a lil bit of:, all relationships with yugyeom are platonic except jacksons, and a real lousy attempt at humor and crack, but anyways, idk where this fic is going tbh, jinyoung is confused, um, yugyeom is precious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hxe7s/pseuds/hxe7s
Summary: Sometimes, we have to feed the monsters inside us and let the darkness consume.





	1. blood is my life (and you are my prey)

**Author's Note:**

> yehet idk where this fic is going im sry

Jinyoung always spends seven to eight on Monday mornings staring at Professor Im. It’s become a ritualistic habit for him since his first year at college, a task he needs to accomplish in order to have enough motivation to get through the rest of the week. It’s kind of weird, he’ll admit, but there’s something so calming about staring at the professor’s broad back and shoulders, his narrow waist, his tiny hands, the dark hair growing messily at the back of his head, the pretty shape of his a—

 

“ _Psst_ , hey, Park Jinyoung, you’re staring again,” someone whispers into his ear, poking his rib with a rude finger. Jinyoung almost falls off his seat with a quiet gasp, which is clearly not quiet enough, as the only other four people awake turn towards him with annoyed glances. Professor Im pauses mid-sentence, surprised to see that Jinyoung is the one who caused the commotion.

 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Park?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

 

“Y-yeah, sorry,” Jinyoung mumbles. His face heats up with mortification and he tries to duck his head to hide behind his calculus textbook. Only when he confirms that Professor Im has gone back to droning about late eighteenth century poetry does he raise his head and slap Mark harshly on the shoulder.

 

“You asswipe, are you trying to get me kicked out of class?” He whisper-shouts, and quickly shuts up when Professor Im turns back to scrutinise him again.

 

“Mr. Park, would you like to teach the class?” Professor Im asks, although the tone of his voice expressed nothing but sarcasm, “With the way you keep interrupting me, I’m beginning to think that you can explain this better.”

 

Mark snickers quietly beside him, enjoying the flustered apology Jinyoung squeaks out in response. Jinyoung doesn’t speak up again, choosing to flip Mark off when his best friend makes weird hand gestures at him that are vaguely reminiscent of sexual intercourse.

 

Jinyoung wonders what it would feel like to smother Mark with a pillow.

 

+++

 

“I hate you,” Jinyoung hisses once the lecture ends, glaring at Mark as he stuffs his textbook and laptop into his bag, “I hope you die.”

 

“Hate is a strong word,” Jinyoung whirls arounds towards the voice he hears from the front of the hall to see Professor Im staring at him. Jinyoung fumbles with his pencil case and it falls from his frozen hands. How the hell did the professor hear what he said over the commotion of the other sixty or so students yawning loudly or groaning and shuffling out of the room?

 

Professor Im must have seen the utter confusion on Jinyoung face, because he continues, saying, “My hearing is really good.” This time more quietly, because most of the students have disappeared off to do whatever college students do at eight a.m. on Monday mornings.

 

“I’m sorry?” Jinyoung replies, unsure of what Professor Im is getting at. The guy’s never actually spoken to Jinyoung directly, apart from when he calls him out in class, and that’s to mock him, right? Because there’s no way anyone could be oblivious enough to have not figured out why Jinyoung spends his first coherent hour of the school week staring at his professor. Even Jinyoung himself agrees that sometimes his blatant attraction to Professor Im is painfully obvious.

 

“You’re staring again.”

 

Jinyoung quickly turns back around to see Mark smirking up at him from where he’s still slouched on his seat, like he knows something Jinyoung doesn’t. Jinyoung frowns, “You’re not leaving?”

 

“Nah, I’ve got a few questions to ask the professor,” Mark replies, “Go, you don’t need to wait for me.”

 

Jinyoung’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as he stares at Mark, who’s gone back to casually scrolling through whatever the hell he likes to look at on his phone.

 

This is officially the weirdest Monday morning ever. First, the professor he’s been crushing on since _forever_ starts a casual conversation with him, and now Mark suddenly cares about his work?

 

What the hell?

 

Jinyoung nods his head hesitantly and _oh so_ gracefully exits the lecture hall, almost tripping over his chair, before running off to his calculus class. He’ll worry about this later, only because he has a reputation as a good student to maintain with his calculus teacher, Professor Hwang. Halfway out of the literacy department, Jinyoung suddenly remembers that he never picked up his pencil case after he dropped it earlier and turns around to rush back towards the lecture hall, his mind still occupied by swirling thoughts about his weird morning.

 

+++

 

He swears he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop.

 

Jinyoung is a good person at heart. And even if he does threaten to kill his friends on a regular basis when they piss him off, he really does respect other people’s privacy. It’s just that he happens to hear the muffled voices of Mark and Professor Im as he’s about to knock on the door of the lecture hall, and somehow accidentally catches his own name being tossed about in their conversation.

 

So he takes in a shaky breath and lightly presses his ear against the wooden door, glad that there’s no see-through glass parts in its design.

 

Most of what they’re saying seems to be relatively normal, until he hears his name again.

 

“ _... don’t worry about Jinyoung …_ ” Mark says, and Jinyoung is already a bit offended. Don’t worry about him? Why would Professor Im worry about him? Because of his grades? No way, Jinyoung has a solid GPA of 3.8.

 

He doesn’t hear much of Professor Im’s response, only the name _Jackson_ again, which both of them have mentioned a few times already. Curious, Jinyoung presses a little closer against the door.

 

“ _You think I’m not enough?_ ” He hears Mark ask.

 

“ _I just don’t want to risk Jinyoung finding out,_ ” Professor Im replies.

 

Finding out about what? What doesn’t Professor Im not want him to find out? Jinyoung frowns, leaning even closer as the voices become more hushed, but is only able to catch indecipherable snippets of what they’re saying.

 

“. _.. trust me …_ ”

 

“... _under control …_ ”

 

“... _too lonely …_ ”

 

 _“... love …_ ”

 

Then the realisation dawns on Jinyoung, or more like it punches him in the face and causes his brain to short circuit. This is beginning to sound horrifyingly similar to a conversation between two _lovers_ , and now Jinyoung feels terrible and disgusting for not only thinking about Professor Im inappropriately with Mark sitting right next to him, but also for eavesdropping on their precious moments of intimacy. Geez, to even imagine that Professor Im may have been flirting with him—what was Jinyoung thinking?

 

There’s silence from the other side of the door for a few minutes, and Jinyoung is too caught up in his internal conflict to do anything.

 

Then Mark sighs.

 

“ _Jaebum-ah_.”

 

Something in Jinyoung snaps, and he roughly pushes himself off from against the door before running out of the building, pencil case long forgotten.

 

It’s not like he _loves_ Professor Im. There is definitely some form of physical attraction, and maybe Jinyoung had fallen a little bit in love with the way Professor Im lets his students sleep during class because he knows how tiring and draining it is to wake up to for a lecture at seven on a Monday morning. And it’s not because they’re trying to be disrespectful. They all deeply appreciate and respect Professor Im for the way he offered to take the Monday Morning time slot so the other professor can actually have enough time in the morning to take her toddler to preschool. And maybe Jinyoung had fallen a little bit in love with the way Professor Im blushes pink and smiles brightly when a student thanks him wearily or compliments his outfit before passing out on the table.

 

Okay, so it may be more than just physical attraction, Jinyoung may like Professor Im just a little bit, like, as in, like- _like_.

 

Well, it’s not like his feelings would ever have been reciprocated anyway, but that’s not the main problem. Yeah sure, Jinyoung is feeling depressed and dejected because his interest isn’t mutual, but what truly hurts is that Mark never told him about it. He and Mark have known each since the Monday of Jinyoung’s second week at college when Mark straight up collapsed onto Jinyoung, and they’ve been best friends ever since, telling each other everything. Well, _almost_ everything, apparently, Jinyoung thinks bitterly, because clearly Mark hasn’t informed him of his affair with Professor Im.  

 

Now that Jinyoung thinks about, the concern in Professor Im’s eyes when Jinyoung panickedly shouted that, _oh my fucking god, someone just fucking died_ while pointing at Mark’s unconscious body, was certainly beyond the amount of concern a professor would normally have for a sick student.

 

Whatever, he doesn’t have the energy to dwell on it any longer, and he definitely does not have enough energy to force himself to go to calculus, not even to protect his good reputation with Professor Hwang. Jinyoung instead decides that it’s best for his emotional health if he retreats back home for the day, and maybe he might just wallow for a few weeks before returning to class, it’s not like Mark would care, he’s probably occupied with Professor Im anyway. Jinyoung sighs and begins the long, lonely trek back to his apartment.

 

+++

 

On his way, while wandering back to his apartment, Jinyoung’s head starts throbbing and his stomach growls loudly, which makes sense, because Jinyoung skips breakfast on Monday mornings so he doesn’t have anything to throw up from the butterflies in his tummy when he makes accidental eye contact with Professor Im. But his headache though? Is he seriously that pained from the heartbreak and betrayal of his best friend and favourite professor?

 

Probably.

 

Jinyoung’s stomach growls again and his migraine intensifies. _What the absolute fuck_ , he thinks as he stops by the convenience store to pick up some pain-killers and some food to stress-eat.

 

The cashier is printing off his receipt when Jinyoung notices a delicious smell wafting through the air and it’s strong enough that it blankets the stench of the ramyeon he just paid for. The food doesn’t even seem that appealing anymore, certainly not as nice as the thick smell of—

 

Jinyoung locks eyes with the cashier. The guy’s average looking at best, not ugly, but also not really handsome in any way at all, which is strange, because Jinyoung is feeling freakishly attracted to him despite usually going for men who have a unique charm and beauty. The cashier isn’t his type, too scrawny and young, Jinyoung has a knack for guys with broad shoulders, narrow waists, tiny hands and pretty a—

 

Woah, he thinks, let’s not go there.

 

Yet, there’s something about the cashier that’s just so enticing, something that’s begging him to bury his nose into the guy’s neck and inhale, and then maybe bite down and sink his teeth into the skin hard enough to pierce an artery and draw _rich, red, delicious_ —Jinyoung doesn’t even notice he’s leaning forward towards the cashier until the guy shoves at his shoulders and snaps, “Sir, please leave, or I’m calling the cops.”

 

Jinyoung flushes bright red, and apologises profusely before grabbing his stuff from the check out and power walking out of the small store. As he continues to power walk home, all Jinyoung can think about is that he had found the thick, pulsing vein in the cashier’s neck far more alluring than the guy himself or any of the food he just bought.

 

Weird. He must be really sick.

 

+++

 

Mark lasts five days of being ignored before he decides to turn up at Jinyoung's front door.

 

On day one, Mark sends him a simple _where are you,_ to which Jinyoung replies with _I’m fine, down with a cold. I want to be alone and don’t want you to catch it so please don’t come by my apartment_. Mark sends a _gws_ before leaving him alone for the next two days, occasionally texting him to make sure he hasn’t died. Jinyoung starts ignoring the texts on day two.

 

On day three, Mark calls and Jinyoung rejects it. Mark sends a sad :( over text, followed by _are you mad at me?._ Jinyoung still doesn’t reply, even though he does feel a little bad for Mark, but he brushes the feeling off, definitely because he is legitimately sick, and one hundred percent _not_ because he’s angry about the affair he'd uncovered between Mark and Professor Im.

 

On day four, Jinyoung stops bothering to reject Mark’s calls and just lets them ring out and go to voicemail. He also becomes increasingly worried for his health. He’s feels hot, and there’s a weird ache in his abdomen. When he stands up, his vision blurs for a few seconds and the world spins. None of the cold medicines he’s taken so far are helping. Also, Jinyoung’s becoming hungrier, which is fucking weird because he knows that he normally can’t even stand the thought of food when he’s sick.

 

Maybe it’s because of the heartbreak, Jinyoung thinks, and decides to sleep it off.

 

On the fifth day, just when Jinyoung is contemplating whether or not he should just block Mark’s number, there’s a knock at his door. Jinyoung groans, sluggishly trudging his way through the kitchen and slowly opening the door, still clad in his dad-robe and hair not washed in at least four days. He really doesn’t have the energy to make himself presentable.

 

“What do you …” Jinyoung’s voice trails off when he realises who has decided to show up. He slams the door shut in Mark’s face and stomps back into his apartment and falls face first onto his couch.

 

Mark quitely steps into the apartment and shuts the door behind him, knowing that although Jinyoung had slammed the door in his face, the younger man had not locked it, meaning that Jinyoung is mad, but not to the point where he will refuse to forgive.

 

“Jinyoung-ah,” Mark says softly, sitting on the edge of the couch where Jinyoung’s feet are propped, “why’d you ignore me?”

 

“You’re gonna get sick,” Jinyoung grumbles into a cushion.

 

“It’s okay, my immune system is very strong.” Mark sighs, patting Jinyoung’s calf gently and retracting his hand with concern when Jinyoung flinches away from the touch, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung huffs, sitting upright and tucking his legs against his chest. Mark stares at him with his I’m-disappointed-by-your-denial look and Jinyoung caves. “How’s it going with Professor Im?” His big, stupid mouth blurts out after a moment of silence. God, he hates himself.

 

“What?” Mark says, confused.

 

“I said ‘how’s it going with Professor Im’,” Jinyoung repeats.

 

“No, I heard you the first time.” Mark shuffles closer and sits down on the end of the couch opposite to Jinyoung, hands gripping his knees. “What do you mean by it?”

 

Jinyoung stiffens. Maybe Mark doesn’t want to talk about it, maybe his friend isn’t ready to be open about it, maybe he doesn’t wanted to tell Jinyoung. The thought of Mark not wanting to tell Jinyoung something so important (Jesus _fucking_ Christ, his best friend is having an affair with his damn professor) hurts him deeper than he had thought it would, and it angers him. Jinyoung trusts Mark so much, so why doesn’t Mark trust him with this?

 

Jinyoung scoffs. “It’s fine. I know you don’t trust me, not like I really cared about you either.” He lies straight through his teeth, wanting to somehow land a hurtful blow to settle the tightness in his chest.

 

“Jinyoung, what the hell?” Mark hisses, glaring at Jinyoung.

 

“What do you mean, ‘what the hell’?” Jinyoung hisses back, sitting up straight, back tense, “When were you going to tell me? Huh? After we graduate? Never?”

 

“What are you talking about?” The other man demands, standing up.

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Jinyoung snorts, standing up too, ready to push Mark out of his apartment. He’s getting angrier and angrier by the second, how dare Mark feint innocence now? How dare Mark continue to let Jinyoung humiliate himself when he knows Professor Im isn’t interested?

 

He doesn’t deserve the amount of shit Mark is putting him through. “Get out,” he snaps. His head is pounding painfully and his stomach still feels empty, like Jinyoung hasn’t eaten in years, he just wants to be left alone to wallow in his depressing thoughts.

 

“Jinyoung.” Mark doesn’t leave. “What’s wrong?”

 

“You know what’s wrong!” Jinyoung shouts, voice harsh and sharp, rage exploding from his gut. The flames quickly engulf any sense of calm, destroying his composure.

 

“You and Professor Im both! Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I was gonna tattle? Do I seem that fucking shallow to you? Is that it?”

 

“The hell, Park?” Mark spits, eyebrows furrowed, “Stop spewing this bullshit and tell me what’s going on.”

 

“Get out of my house,” Jinyoung growls. The anger is making him dizzy, and he wants to punch a wall, wants to take this fury out on something, someone, anything.  

 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Mark insists, undeterred. Jinyoung wants to beat his pretty face in. He even considers it for a second, Mark practises martial arts, but Jinyoung hits the gym on a regular basis. He can probably hold his ground and land a few punches before Mark takes him out.

 

“Nothing’s wrong except for the fact that apparently you don't trust me at all!” Jinyoung’s voice booms through his apartment, his neighbours can probably hear him yelling and throwing a temper tantrum. “Some best friend you are. You've been keeping huge crazy, _illegal_ secrets! That also involve _me_!” At this point, Jinyoung’s so full of anger he can’t even think straight, he just wants blood spilled—oh god, he’s bloodthirsty, why is he bloodthirsty?

 

“Jinyoung, I—” Mark looks so worried, so pained, so _sorry_ , but Jinyoung can’t focus on his friend’s words. Mark’s voice is normally really quiet, hard to hear sometimes, yet it’s so fucking loud right now, ringing in Jinyoung’s ears, adding to his already agonizing headache. Sensory overload. He can hear the sound of his neighbour’s cat knocking over a stack of papers, smell Mark’s stupid three-in-one shampoo, and the scent of, of, of—

 

Of the familiar, heady scent of _blood_ , thick in the air, Jinyoung’s stomach clenches in hunger and all he can see is red, and then the veins in Mark’s neck and it terrifies himself because _what the fuck is wrong with me?_ But he’s so fucking hungry and he just wants to eat, that’s all he knows, to eat, to drink, to _kill_ —

 

So he does. It’s like Jinyoung isn’t even himself anymore; he can see what’s going on but he can’t control his body or understand his own actions. His heart pounds loudly against his rib cage, Jinyoung feels a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

 

He walks two steps towards Mark, stopping barely an inch in front of him, eyes trained on where he can _feel_ Mark’s blood flowing beneath the skin of his neck. It kind of smells off, Jinyoung notices, like it’s not _fresh_ blood, but like the blood stored in blood bags. His noses wrinkles in disdain, almost put off by the smell of spoilt blood. Mark squints up at him with a questioning look. Jinyoung ignores him, because it doesn’t matter how putrid the rotting blood smells (and he should be concerned, because why does Mark’s blood smell old, when it’s supposed to be freshly produced by his body?), he’s still starving, and desperately needs to eat: his life depends on it.

 

What the _fuck_.

 

Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jinyoung’s straddling Mark’s chest, one hand gripping his friend’s shoulder, the other trying to smother Mark by covering his mouth and nose in hopes of cutting off the air supply so he’d stop _struggling_.

 

He gets _this_ close to tearing into Mark’s neck with his teeth before Mark lands a solid punch on his jaw. Jinyoung feels a sharp _crack,_ and the metallic taste of blood floods his mouth. Momentarily stunned, he falls off Mark and lands on his ass. There’s an odd tinge in his gums, like his teeth are trying to forcefully push their way out of his mouth, and the nasty throb makes the angry flames in him burn even more intensely.

 

Jumping to his feet, Jinyoung shoves at Mark, teeth bared like a feral animal. There’s a piercing, screeching sound in the distance, and Mark’s eyes widen, alarmed. Taking advantage of Mark’s shock, Jinyoung lunges again. Mark dodges and knocks an elbow between Jinyoung’s shoulder blades.

 

Off balance, Jinyoung hits the ground face-first, pretty sure that one of his front teeth has been knocked out and his nose is broken, if the excruciating pain is anything to go by. Just as Jinyoung is about to push himself off the ground, Mark sits down on his back and grabs his wrists, twisting Jinyoung’s arms backwards.

 

“Sorry,” Jinyoung hears the other man mutter before his shoulders pop out of their sockets. He screams.

 

“This is for your own good,” Mark says, before he flips Jinyoung onto his back to assess the damage he’d inflicted onto his friend, “I could break your wrists, which would be less painful, but then you’ll heal too quickly, and I really don’t want to fight you.”

 

A screeching sound fills the air again, and Jinyoung swears Mark’s eyes glow blue for a second before they return to their normal dark brown. He tries to stand up, but it’s a fruitless endeavour; he can’t get off the ground without support from his arms, so he lays there, struggling and growling deep in his throat. That’s when the screeching stops.

 

Even Jinyoung’s hunger-crazed mind isn’t stupid enough not to make the connection that _he_ ’s the one who’s been making all that god-awful noise.

 

“Just a few more minutes,” Mark whispers. He crouches beside Jinyoung’s head and brushes the fringe from Jinyoung’s eyes apologetically. Jinyoung snaps his head to face Mark’s leg, unhinging his jaw, he bites down as ruthlessly as he can, newly grown teeth sinking into cold flesh. Mark grunts in surprise and throws off Jinyoung’s bite by swinging his foot forwards, breaking the other side of Jinyoung’s jaw to subdue him.  Jinyoung whines in pain and lets go, already feeling his jaw heal itself, rebuilding all the broken bits of bone and stitching up all the severed blood vessels.

 

He continues to emit weird animalistic sounds from the floor as he feels the tendons in his shoulders working to pull his bones back into place. Just a little more, then he can fill himself to the brim with the blood of his attacker. He eyes Mark, who has learnt to stay a safe distance away from Jinyoung, and hisses threateningly. Mark looks at him with caution, biting his lips as he mummers into his phone. Hiding stuff from Jinyoung, again, and it fuels his anger even more.

 

Just a bit more, Jinyoung feels himself grin, just a bit more and then his arms will be good again. His left arm heals before his right, Jinyoung pushes himself up and punches Mark square in the face, feeling his friend’s nose crack under his knuckles. Mark’s phone drops from his hand and clatters loudly onto the wooden floorboards. His hands fly to cover his nose, which is now bleeding profusely. Jinyoung smirks and knees Mark in the stomach, causing the man to double over in pain. For good measure, Jinyoung kicks the phone far away from Mark as well;  it skids along the floor and disappears under a cabinet.

 

Mark swings at Jinyoung’s face again, but Jinyoung grabs Mark’s wrist before it connects and tightens his hold until he hears the satisfying crunch of Mark’s wrist bones breaking. Mark howls and stomps down hard onto Jinyoung’s foot, who in turn lets go and stumbles backwards.

 

Jinyoung gropes blindly for the collar of Mark’s shirt to steady himself, but misses, falling into a tall lamp. He grabs it and swings for Mark’s head with as much force as he can muster. Mark blocks the blow with his arm but staggers from the impact. Jinyoung notices the opening and launches himself at his friend, violently pushing Mark onto the floor, tightening one hand around his throat while the other claws at Mark’s uninjured wrist.

 

Mark attempts to kick Jinyoung, but his struggles lessen in strength the longer Jinyoung’s fingers stay curled around his airpipe, cruel and unrelenting. Jinyoung hisses in delight. His gums itch, sweet baby _jesus_ , finally some good fucking food—

 

The apartment door flies open, banging against the wall, frightening Jinyoung. He jumps off Mark and scrambles to his feet to face the intruder.

 

Professor Im’s eyes quickly survey the situation, landing on Mark, who is heaving and spluttering, oxygen finally able to reach his lungs again, before turning to Jinyoung, blood dripping down his chin from the broken nose and multiple cuts inside his mouth.

 

Professor Im’s eyes glow crimson red, expensive rubies shining brightly even with the slightest reflection of light. Jinyoung stares, heart beating rapidly, admiring his beauty for just a second, before he takes a lunge at the professor as well.

 

 _God_ , Professor Im smells so fucking _nice_ , so much better than the stench of Mark’s rotten blood. Now that he’s smelled Professor Im’s delicious blood, Jinyoung’s no longer interested in his friend. Instead, he shoves Professor Im up against the wall and sniffs around the junction of his neck and shoulder. Jinyoung sighs from the heavenly smell, rubbing his cheek against Professor Im’s neck. His stomach hurts so much from the _hunger_.

 

Jinyoung peers up, instincts demanding him to make eye contact as he devours his victim. He sees his reflection in Professor Im’s eyes. His eyes are glowing gold, unlike Professor Im’s red and Mark’s blue, his teeth on full display, canines horrifyingly long and sharp, unmistakably inhumane, and there’s blood smudged everywhere on his face. He looks like a monster. He feels like a monster.

 

Professor Im stares back down at him, but he’s not struggling to get out of Jinyoung’s grip, instead, he stays still and calm. However, Jinyoung isn’t in his right mind,  and neither does he have the energy, to decipher the meaning behind the professor’s unexpected actions, so he does the only thing he can do right now.

 

Jinyoung sinks his teeth into Professor Im’s neck and sucks greedily. The professor groans and tightens a hand around Jinyoung’s bicep. He remains silent, allowing Jinyoung to drink and feast on him. Jinyoung can hear Mark’s gasps in the background; the ringing in his ears is finally beginning to dissipate, but it still isn’t returning to normal, instead, it feels as though there are thick walls in his ears, muffling all sound. His vision blurs, and he suddenly feels numb and just really, really exhausted. Professor Im’s hand loosens and loops around Jinyoung’s shoulder to support his slumping body. As he feels himself losing consciousness, he is vaguely aware of a conversation between the professor and Mark.

 

“Don’t, I’ve got this.” Professor Im’s voice is muddled in his head, and Jinyoung is no longer coherent enough to understand Mark’s reply, he can only hear a muffled snort. He can barely make out Mark as he limps his way to where Jinyoung still has Professor Im pressed against the wall, jaw going slack against the older man’s neck.

 

He feels the last of his consciousness slipping away and he sighs, just wanting to close his eyes and sleep for a very long time, maybe forever. He thinks Professor Im is tilting his head back to give him better access to the artery, but he doesn’t have the time to confirm as his world teeters on its axis and fades into darkness.


	2. evil is a point of view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks young, 19 at most and completely harmless, with big sparkly eyes and bright yellow hair. He kind of looks like a Macdonald’s fry, Jinyoung notes, snorting a little, long, thin, yellow and salty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update is in celebration of lullaby 7th win !!! we really made it aye !!! im so proud of our boys and my fellow ahgases <3 :D

 

When Jinyoung opens his eyes, there’s a boy with wide eyes hovering barely an inch above his face. Panicked by the unfamiliarity, Jinyoung instinctively socks the kid in the cheek. The kid yelps in surprise and falls ass first onto the floor beside Jinyoung’s bed.

 

“Why’d you do that?” He whines as he cradles his face, “Hurt like hell you smelly old man.”

 

“Shut up, I’m not smelly and I’m not old,” Jinyoung scoffs, eyeing the kid. He looks young, 19 at most and completely harmless, with big sparkly eyes and bright yellow hair. He kind of looks like a Macdonald’s fry, Jinyoung notes, snorting a little, long, thin, yellow and salty. “And what are you doing in my apartment? Leave, before I call—”

 

“Yugyeom, I heard noise, is Jinyoung—what happened?” Mark appears in the doorway, carrying a bowl of soup, which he throws over his shoulder when he realises the kid, Yugyeom or whatever his name is, is sitting on the ground with an ugly purple bruise blossoming over the pale skin of his left cheek. Jinyoung winces at the sound of the ceramic bowl clattering onto the floor, _damn_ , all that soup staining his carpeted hallway? Really? He’s about to jump off the bed and demand Mark take this unruly kid out of his room when he noticed that Mark’s concern has shifted from Yugyeom onto him.

 

Mark’s staring at Jinyoung’s reddening knuckles with a disappointed frown on his face, it’s obvious that he’s connected the dots and realised that Jinyoung was the one who punched Yugyeom in the face.

 

“You’re lucky that it wasn’t Jackson who came in,” Mark mutters as he helps Yugyeom onto his feet. Jinyoung stares at them with confusion. Who’s Jackson? Who the hell is this kid? Why is Mark in his apartment? Why is he lying in bed in broad daylight—

 

It comes back to him, first in spurts and then the full memory hits him in his head, like the best pitcher in the world decided to take a shot at pitching a bowling bowl at Jinyoung’s head and succeeded. It is only then he takes in the cut on Mark’s lip, the dark patches of marred skin along his jaw and temple, and the bandages around both of his wrists.

 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Jinyoung clenches his bed sheets in his fists as he tries to process what happened, “Mark, I am so so so sorry, I don’t know what came over me but that’s not an excuse, oh my god, what did I do to you, I’m a monster, I need to—”

 

“Stop rambling, it’s okay,” Mark reaches out and lays a warm hand on Jinyoung shoulder, forcing the younger man to look at him in the eyes, “I’m fine. It’s Jaebum you should be apologising to.”

 

“Jaebum?” Jinyoung asks in horror, feeling panic rise and clog up his throat, “P-Professor Im? What did I do to him?”

 

“He’s …” Mark averts his gaze, hand squeezing Jinyoung’s shoulder tightly. Jinyoung’s stomach drops, oh god, he’s a murderer, he’s killed a man, what is he going to do with his life now? How is he going to tell his parents? Does he even get a chance to talk to them? Is he going to prison right now? How is Professor Im’s family going to react? Did he just single handedly ruin several people’s life? How stupid did he have to be to hurt Professor Im? How much of a fucking monster is he to have killed—

 

“He’s sleeping right now,” Yugyeom says, shrugging from beside Mark, “‘cause you drank him dry. Bambam says it’s because you guys were doing the do too much, but I’m smart so I don’t believe him.”

 

Relief floods over Jinyoung. The professor is still alive, he thinks, that’s good, _I didn’t kill him, I just drank him…_ dry?

 

 _What_.

 

“I—what?” Jinyoung squints at Yugyeom, who has a shit-eating grin plastered over his face like the little life-ruining fucker he is, Jinyoung wants to wipe it off with his fist again, but doesn’t because he doesn’t want whoever this mysterious Jackson is coming after his ass because he beat up a little kid.

 

“Y’know, do the _do_ ,” Yugyeom repeats, leaning against Mark and clutching at the older man’s arm, “It means that you were play-wrestling too much, even I know that.”

 

Mark glances at Yugyeom with a skeptical look and mumbles, “Remind me to beat Bambam’s ass.” Then he turns back to Jinyoung and sighs.

 

“Jaebum is fine, but he’s not healing as fast as he’d usually because it was you who bit him,” he explains, running a hand down his face when the confusion on Jinyoung’s face continues to increase. Mark suddenly looks infinitely older than his age. “Jinyoung …” he sighs again, eyes serious, “we’re... vampires.”

 

There’s a silent pause where Jinyoung stares at Mark and Mark stares back him, and Yugyeom tries to braid Mark’s hair. Then Jinyoung bursts into laughter, loud and amused.

 

“We—vamp, _vampires_?” He wheezes, wiping at the tears threatening to spill over from laughing too hard, “Really, Mark? That’s lame, even for y—”

 

He’s cut short when Yugyeom disappears from his room and reappears with a kitchen knife in his hand and a wide grin on his face that screams _I’m about to ruin Jinyoung’s life and I know it_.

 

“Whoa, hey, hey!” Jinyoung shouts and stands up, taking small steps towards Yugyeom, who now has the knife blade placed on his wrist. “Hey, it’s alright, give me the knife,” Jinyoung says, trying to coax the kid to give him the knife, which he knows will definitely slice easily through flesh. He eyes Mark warily and is worried by the lack of concern on his best friend’s face. _What are you standing there for_ , Jinyoung tries to convey with his eyes, blinking rapidly at his friend, _help me stop this stupid kid_. Mark just looks at him with amusement.

 

Jinyoung doesn’t have enough time to question Mark’s insanity because Yugyeom’s manic grin widens and he slides the blade across his skin, cutting deep enough to sever major blood vessels. He barely winces in pain. Jinyoung screams, horrified by how crazy the two people in his apartment are.

 

“What are you doing?!” He shouts at Yugyeom and Mark, panicking, “Call an ambulance!” But neither of them budge from their spots.

 

Mark grabs Jinyoung’s arm, “Calm down, and watch.” Jinyoung looks Yugyeom’s wrist, where blood is seeping out and dripping onto his bedroom floor.

 

“Calm down and watch what?!” He yells hysterically at Mark.

 

“This,” Mark grabs Yugyeom’s bloody wrist with his other hand and shoves it into Jinyoung’s face. Jinyoung grabs at the kid’s wrist and presses down with both hands onto the cut, trying to stop the bleeding and notices that there’s definitely not enough blood spilt for how deep the cut looks.

 

“W-what?” He asks, hands shaking as he watches the blood around the injury begins to crust and the skin rapidly grows over the wound and smoothing out until there’s nothing left except for Yugyeom’s perfectly unharmed wrist, and a tiny scar where the cut had been that’s fading away quickly. Jinyoung stares in shock and bewilderment, and then rubs his eyes.

 

“Am I hallucinating?” He asks, not believing what he just saw.

 

“No,” Yugyeom offers, retracting his wrist and wiping the left-over blood on the front of Jinyoung’s shirt, “Do you want me to show you again?” He holds up the kitchen knife, but Mark snatches it out of his hands. Yugyeom pouts, which Jinyoung would consider cute if the kid hadn’t just sliced his wrist open and then proceeded to magically heal it.

 

“It’s not magic,” Yugyeom says, as if reading Jinyoung’s mind—wait, is that another of the kid’s supernatural abilities? “I’m not reading your mind, you’re an open book, everything is written on your face.”

 

“Not helping, Gyeom-ah,” Mark scolds, “And that was melodramatic. Stop hanging out with Jackson.” Jinyoung stood frozen in his spot, unable to understand anything that had just happened. Vampires, or whatever species Yugyeom and Mark are, are _supernatural_ and _real,_ that would mean the rest of the supernatural myths are real, too, right? According to the transitional laws of geometry—

 

“Oh my god, vampires are real,” Jinyoung gasps, “Does that mean werewolves and zombies and angels—”

 

“Now really isn’t the time for questions, Jinyoung-ah.” Mark shakes his head. “You should go check on Jaebum first and apologise to him.”

 

“Right,” Jinyoung complies without thought, the last of his two brain cells desperately overworking itself to sort out the new information. He walks mindlessly out of his room and down the hallway to his living room, where Professor Im is currently laying down in. Jinyoung stands at the foot of his couch, suddenly realising that Mark nor Yugyeom had told him where Professor Im is resting, and that he had just followed the man’s scent to where he is.

 

“Must be a lot to process,” Professor Im whispers, stirring awake and stretching lazily before settling comfortably to stare up at Jinyoung. There are bite marks up and down the entire expanse of the right side of his neck that he doesn’t bother with hiding, and they’re all purpling and reddening like ugly reminders of Jinyoung’s incompetence on his otherwise flawless skin.

 

“I did that?” Jinyoung whispers back, shuffling closer to where Professor Im’s head rested and kneeling down, hand trembling as he reaches out.

 

“It’s okay,” Professor Im reassures when Jinyoung’s hand stops mid-air, hesitant and afraid to touch, to acknowledge that he, the same Jinyoung who isn’t scared of anything that science cannot define, the same Jinyoung who, not until minutes ago, had not believed in the supernatural, and would often disregard any accounts of supernatural conspiracy that he now realises, may not even be conspiracy after all, _is_ the myth that he had found incredibly childish and unrealistic, and that he has the power to take away someone’s life.

 

Life is ridiculous.

 

Jinyoung, who never even once believed in the monster under his bed, is a _vampire_ , a blood-sucking, uncontrollable, hideous _monster_ , and his beloved literature professor, the one who he has an impossible crush on, is lying on his couch in his apartment, battered and bruised, because Jinyoung had been so hungry for blood, he nearly killed a person.

 

“Sorry,” Jinyoung sobs into his hands, overwhelmed with the realisation of what he could have done if Professor Im hadn’t been here to stop him. “I’m sorry, Professor.”

 

“Just Jaebum hyung is alright,” Profe—Jaebum grasps one of Jinyoung’s hands and pats it soothingly ( _it means nothing_ , Jinyoung reminds himself, _he loves Mark, not you_ ). “It’s not your fault, I should've listened to Mark hyung and told you sooner. It’s my fault for not telling you.”

 

“How can it be your fault when I’m the one who nearly—” the words die on Jinyoung’s tongue, because he’s too much of a coward to admit that he almost killed Jaebum.

 

“If I had told you sooner that you’re a—that you aren’t quite human, you would’ve drank when you first felt that you were hungry because you would’ve known the symptoms of starvation,” Jaebum explains with a shake of his head, “I could’ve prevented this entire fiasco, and you wouldn’t have needed to find out like this.”

 

“So, I’m a really a ... a—” Jinyoung sucks in a shaky breath and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart, “A vampire.”

 

“Yes,” Jaebum confirms, nodding and sitting up, “You, me, Mark, and lot more people than you think.”

 

“Is there anyone else I should know about?” Jinyoung asks, sitting down on the edge of his coffee table. “Like is there a pack you belong to? Or is that just for werewolves?”

 

“Don’t compare us to those lowly canines,” Jaebum scoffs, wrinkling his nose in something akin to disgust, “Vampires live in groups as well, but we don’t fight like animals over territory. My clan isn’t that big. Just Mark, Jackson, Youngjae, Bambam, Yugyeom and me. I’m sure you’ve already met Mark.”

 

“And unfortunately, also Yugyeom,” Jinyoung says, rolling of his eyes.

 

“Don’t talk about our kid like that,” Jaebum’s lips pull back into a sneer, “And don’t let Jackson hear you say stuff like that.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Jinyoung holds his hands up in defeat, “who’s Jackson, you’ve all been talking about him.”

 

“You’ll meet him soon enough,” Jaebum replies. They lapse into silence, Jinyoung fiddles with his thumb, knee bouncing restlessly as he processes the information.

 

“What is it?” Jaebum asks, slightly annoyed. “Spit it out.”

 

“I don’t remember ever encountering a person who tried to bite me,” Jinyoung says, glaring at the floor between him and Jaebum, “isn’t that how people are converted? When you get bit by a vampire?”

 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum sighs, massaging his temples. Jinyoung bites the inside of his cheek, trying to ready himself for whatever other news Jaebum has for him. “You were born as a vampire, you never got turned, you never were quite, well, _human_.”

 

“I—I, I’m—what?” Jinyoung’s eyes widen with shock, his heart rate starts to pick up again. Anxiety and panic rushing back through him, gripping tightly around his throat. “But my parents, they never—they haven’t—”  


“That’s because they’re not your biological parents,” Jaebum croaks, instantly feeling regretful for what he had just exposed when he sees the confusion and bewilderment on Jinyoung’s face, “You didn’t know that?”

 

“... I’m adopted …?” The shock is overwhelming – he forgets about Jaebum and Mark’s love affair immediately, in place of that dull ache is the thought of being adopted. Jinyoung feels sadness, anger, every emotion in split seconds before it all vanishes from him. He feels mostly numb, because he doesn’t know what to feel, apart from this odd, consuming… _emptiness_ , swallowing him down and drowning him, clogging his throat up with an infinite ocean of lies. Chill runs through his blood, turning him cold. He stares blankly at anywhere but Jaebum’s eyes, which are full of concern.

 

“I need to go for a walk,” he hears himself say. He needs to be anywhere but here, he thinks of a place, any place, just not here, in his apartment, in his living room, in front of Jaebum.

 

“Jinyoung!” Jinyoung thinks it’s Jaebum shouting, but his vision is fizzing out and there’s static in his ears. He desperately thinks of going somewhere, and then, he’s gone.

  


+++

  


Jinyoung doesn’t even remember how he ended up sitting on the bench in the on-campus park. He’s just … _there._

 

Well, at least it’s better than being stuck in that awkward confrontation with Jaebum. Besides, the park is peaceful and calming, giving Jinyoung a chance to sort through his thoughts. It’s the usual place where Jinyoung goes when stress becomes too much, often opting to choose studying amidst the colourful flower bushes over the choice of studying in the crammed and tense atmosphere of the library.

 

Jinyoung breathes in the fresh air deeply and sighs loudly, resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. It’s not that he’s hurt because of the fact that he’s adopted, moreover, the throbbing ache he feels deep in his chest is because his parents hadn’t told him about his adoption. Had they thought that he’d love them less because they aren’t related by blood?

 

What bullshit.

 

Just because they don’t share the same gene pool doesn’t mean it’ll change Jinyoung’s love and gratitude towards them. Nothing will change that. But, had they not thought that? Had they thought Jinyoung is so shallow that he shouldn’t be trusted with the information?

 

It is these thoughts that hurt him the most. The ones that illustrate the lack of trust others have in him even though he is willing to pry open and bare his own heart to them.

 

He snorts quietly, feeling tears threatening to spill over. He should have known, everything seems so obvious now that he knows the answer; why people always found it difficult to find physical similarities between Jinyoung and his parents, why his mom always wore uneasy expressions when he kept asking why his friend looks so much like his mom yet Jinyoung looks nothing like her, his dad’s hesitation and the mumbled, incoherent answers Jinyoung received when he had questioned his rather tall height compared to the short stature of the rest of the extended Park family.

 

It’s so bizarrely obvious, Jinyoung doesn’t understand how he missed it. He prided himself on his observance.

 

Either way, adopted or not, Park Jinyoung will always be Park Jinyoung, the sole child of Mrs Park and Mr Park. He doesn’t think he could take on any other name. He will always be a Park, but it’s probably not his decision to make anymore—will his parents still want him anymore after he learns of their secret? Because clearly, they have a reason for not telling him. Jinyoung vehemently hopes that it’s not the one he’s thinking of right now, which would be the most logical, but also the cruelest.

 

Jinyoung doesn’t think he can take it if it is.

 

He groans loudly and throws his head back to stare at the sky, too immersed in his own thoughts to notice the guy jogging laps around the park until he approaches Jinyoung and boops him on the nose with a fingertip.

 

Jinyoung is stunned for a second, but the sparring match with Mark had trained his reflexes more than he had anticipated. Or perhaps it’s just because he’s now aware of his newly discovered vampirism.

 

He grabs the guy’s wrist, careful to go easy on him and not grip too tight in case what happened to Mark happens again. Normally, in this situation, people will try and free their arm, but the dark haired man simply smirks that smug grin that looks way too familiar, kind of reminds Jinyoung of the way Yugyeom had grinned at him.

 

“I think I know why Jaebum likes you so much now,” the guy says, nodding to himself. He looks young, around Jinyoung’s age, maybe slightly older. Strange, Jinyoung doesn’t remember ever seeing a student like him around campus before. “You’re pretty handsome when you’re serious, and really cute when you’re surprised.”

 

“Thank you …?” Jinyoung squints up at the guy and lets go off his wrist. “Wait, you know Professor Im—I mean, Jaebum?”

 

“You seriously call him that?” He scoffs, plopping down next to Jinyoung on the bench. It’s a little bit of a tight fit, but the guy doesn’t seem to mind and Jinyoung can’t find the energy to care anymore, this is probably the least weirdest thing that has happened to him today.

 

“You know Jaebum forged his teaching licence, right? His Ph.D certificates, too? Though, he probably knows more than all of your other professors combined. He’s _really_ old,” the guy babbles on, startling Jinyoung when he suddenly stops with a sharp _oh_. “I keep forgetting to introduce myself, everyone knew who I was back then, guess old habits die hard, huh?” He extends his right hand to Jinyoung, Jinyoung gingerly shakes it once before he drops the guy’s hand. “I’m Jackson Wang.”

 

Jinyoung almost gasps. _Almost_ . “ _The_ Jackson?” He asks, trying to maintain a neutral face, which is useless, because his voice betrays him before he even thinks about controlling it not to crack like a teenager meeting their favourite singer.

 

“So I guess you do know me,” Jackson chuckles and claps Jinyoung hard on the back. It stings not even for a second before the pain disappears as fast as it came. Usually, Jinyoung would still be able to feel the ache for a few minutes before it’s gone, but he can’t feel any pain on the part of his back where Jackson definitely bruised him. What the hell?

 

Jackson must have caught the dazed expression on Jinyoung’s face because he frowns and asks, “What’s wrong?”

 

“I—I, the pain? It disappeared so fast? That’s never happened to me before?” He tries to explain, “Prof—Jaebum said I’m a born v—” Jinyoung shuts up, aware that perhaps Jackson isn’t aware of this whole other species of people that live on this earth when he remembers that Jaebum had mentioned Jackson being part of the group he travels with, “—that I’m a born vampire, doesn’t that mean I’d be able to heal like this since birth? But, I’ve always healed at a normal, human rate?”

 

And he knows this because it had taken him four goddamn months to heal the fractured bone he got when he had been reading his book and not looking ahead while he walked his way home from school once, and had actually slipped on a fucking banana peel of all things.

 

“That’s because you’ve never drank blood before,” Jackson explains, gesturing with his hands, “The more blood you drink, or the purer the blood you drink, the more amplified your abilities become. So without regularly taking blood, a vampire is really no different than an average human.”

 

“But I healed like this when I fought Mark,” Jinyoung frowns. Jackson glares at him and cards a hand through his hair, exhaling.

 

“You went feral,” he says, “When vampires starve themselves for too long, or are unable to refill their blood supply, their biological clock starts ticking. Your body has to sustain itself, right? And if you are purposefully starving yourself, it’ll shut down your brain so your conscience can’t get in the way of trying to save itself. That’s why you lose control. Your body will focus all of its power on healing and hunting until it has fed itself to satisfaction, it’s why feral vampires are so reckless and dangerous. Their moral compass doesn’t exist until they’ve already done something they’ll regret. Namely, drinking too much from someone and thus, killing them.”

 

“So basically, I was so hungry I saw Mark and Professor Im as prey,” Jinyoung concludes, miffed and angry at himself.

 

“That’s why we encourage feeding regularly in moderation, even though we do it as scarcely as we can,” Jackson continues, “We’d do a lot more damage if we refused to drink and went feral than just stealing a few of the blood bags that’ve gone bad and are thrown out by hospitals. Y’know, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

 

“Does that mean I have to …” Jinyoung questions as the realisation dawns him, “To—to drink blood from blood bags as well?”

 

“Well, I suppose,” Jackson replies, shrugging as though that isn’t a huge issue. And maybe it isn’t, but to Jinyoung, who, not until hours ago, thought of himself as a human, the idea of drinking human blood seems to hit too close to cannibalism. Jackson chatters on, “But you’re a born vampire, so naturally you’d have better control than most of the turned-vamps. I mean you’ve gone, what? Twenty-three years without blood? Vampires who have amazing resistance to starvation and cravings probably can only last a year or two at most. But, I gotta tell you, now that you’ve actually tasted blood, especially since it’s _alpha_ blood, you’ll probably not last as long without it as you did before, plus, you should feed at least once every few months so you don’t go feral again.”

 

“What’s alpha blood, why’s it special?” Jinyoung asks out of curiosity, the information Jackson is telling him piquing his interest, it just seems so unrealistic and fantastical it’s fascinating to hear about.

 

“So, vampire hierarchy works like this: born-vampires at the top, alpha-vampires in the middle, turned-vampires at the bottom,” Jackson explains, making wild hand gestures, “Jaebum is an alpha-vampire, right? Alpha-vamps are the next best thing after born-vamps.”

 

“Jaebum’s not a thing,” Jinyoung mutters silently under his breath, but Jackson’s supernatural hearing picks up on it and he smirks smugly at Jinyoung. Jinyoung wants to punch him in the face, but Jackson’s built like a brick wall and even with his superb healing skills, Jinyoung would rather not crush his knuckles to pieces in a foolish attempt to break Jackson’s jaw.

 

“Alpha-vampires are the leaders of clans,” Jackson ignores Jinyoung’s protruding middle finger, which is directed at him, “They’re more powerful than a normal turned-vamp, but not as powerful as a born-vamp. Born-vampires are the most powerful because they carry one hundred percent of the vampire genetics from the first of the specimen, and not a single strand of human DNA in their blood, which means you’re a direct descendant from some ancient, prestigious vampire family.”

 

Jinyoung snorts. Jackson coughs lightly at being interrupted.

 

“Go on, go on,” Jinyoung says, almost choking with how hard he had snorted.

 

Jackson goes back to explaining enthusiastically, “As I was saying before I was cut off rudely, born-vampires are the most powerful, and they’re the only ones who can reproduce born-vampires. Turned-vampires can only give birth to halflings, who are half-vampire, half-human, and essentially the exact same as a turned-vampire. But it’s extremely hard to conceive and actually birth a halfling, the amount of blood needed to kickstart a turned-vamp’s reproductive system and actually sustain the fetus while it grows? Impossible. Unless the turned-vamp massacres, but most of us aren’t like that anymore.”

 

“ _Anymore_ ,” Jinyoung accuses. Jackson smiles big and wide, happily showing off the unnatural sharpness of his canines.

 

“Anyways, not many vampires really care about procreating anymore,” Jackson huffs, “With born-vampires popping babies left and right, there’s really no point. On that note, only born-vampires and alpha-vampires can turn someone, and they normally don’t do it unless it’s for a good reason. Now, let’s talk about eye colour, so you can identify a vampire’s status by their eye colour. Common turned-vamps are blue,” Jackson flashes blue light from his eyes briefly before switching back to his original dark brown, “Alpha-vampires are red,” Jinyoung shivers, remembering the heat of Jaebum’s crimson stare, “And apparently born-vamps have golden eyes, but I’ve never actually seen them for myself ...”

 

“Wait, wait,” Jinyoung interrupts again, blatantly ignoring Jackson’s subtle suggestion of showing him his eye colour, “You never explained the thing about the alpha blood.”

 

“Oh right, I got sidetracked,” Jackson slaps himself lightly on the cheek, “Yes, about that. You see, because born-vamps and alpha-vamps are more powerful, it means they have more vampire genes running through their blood, which is what makes them so powerful. Also, injuries inflicted by a vampire above your vamp-status will take longer to heal. Remember the thing I said about drinking more blood or drinking purer blood to gain strength?” Jinyoung nods. “Well, the more blood you drink, the more your vampire genes can multiply, but it’s only temporary. The more vampire genes you have in blood, the more pure your blood is, the more powerful you become, and if you drink in all that enhancing DNA, you’ll never get used to plain ol’ rotting bagged blood again. That’s why, technically, you aren’t supposed to feed on alphas or borns. It’s also why power-greedy or pure-blood addicted vampires target alphas or borns.”

 

“Okay …” Jinyoung says slowly, “What about the whole ‘afraid the sun, garlic and crosses’ thing? Does that not apply anymore? Or has it always just been a rumour.”

 

“It’s partly true,” Jackson wrinkles his nose, similar to the way Jaebum does it, “We’ve learnt to adapt overtime I guess, just like humans. The sun, and garlic used to be a thing I guess ... but the crosses shtick? Cannot be further away from the truth. Only way to kill a vampire is to completely decapitate them. We aren’t some unholy creatures, I mean, we’re just a superior species with more enhanced genes than humans, so if god created humans and all animals, technically, he created us too. We’re all made of the same things, it’s just that our biology works a little different and our DNA is structured weirdly compared to other species. Like, birds and frogs are different species and have different biological construct, but neither is unholy, so—you get the point. Anything else?”

 

“I’m good for now,” Jinyoung answers, feeling a whirlwind of emotions. He stands up and dusts himself off slightly, ready to skedaddle and attempt to stay sane as he continues to process through the new information.

 

“So, ready to go back to your apartment?” Jackson teases, cheekily, which earns him a cold glare. “You know how much Jaebum cares about you and likes you.”

 

“He really doesn’t,” Jinyoung argues, flustered and feeling a blush creep up his neck.

 

“You keep telling yourself that,” Jackson grins, “Anyways, you gonna teleport us back to your place or am I gonna have to walk back?”

 

“Ha! Teleport, nice one, “Jinyoung laughs, then pauses as he sees that Jackson’s expression remains serious. “What are you talking about? I can’t teleport,” Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow, “That’s not physically possible! There’s no way I can teleport.”

 

“Well, it’s possible, if you vibrate at a certain frequency that’s equivalent to the earth, or vibrate with a frequency matching that of another earth, you’d be able to travel between alternate dimensions,” Jackson says and Jinyoung is becoming increasingly concerned about the serious look on Jackson’s face.

 

“Just close your eyes, okay? Give it a shot. Now, imagine your apartment, your living room, the things in it, couch, coffee table, TV, anything you have in there. Focus on it, until it becomes more than just a vision, until it becomes real around you. You’re a born-vamp, remember, you have enough power to vibrate as fast as the earth. You did it earlier.”

 

Jinyoung shuts his eyes tight and concentrates on the things Jackson mentions. His tiny apartment, the even tinier living room, the ugly painting on one of the walls the previous tenant left behind and Jinyoung couldn’t be bothered to remove, his small coffee table, the crack in the corner of his flat screen from that one time Jinyoung thought practicing his baseball pitching indoors had been a good idea (it had not been a good idea, it had been a terrible, _terrible_ idea and Jinyoung’s TV suffered as a consequence), the worn down material of his couch, and Jaebum, who he abruptly left on said couch and the inevitable disappointment on his face.

 

He visualises them, at first, unconvinced by Jackson’s haste and very illogical explanation of quantum physics, and is shocked as the illusion before his eyes becomes clearer and closer and more solid, as if Jinyoung can reach out and physically touch them.

 

The buzzing sound from earlier returns. It’s white noise, Jinyoung realises, and he focuses harder on his living room, the place he wants to be right now. Suddenly his body feels light and he feels as though as he floating, but not like in water, however, suspended in the sky. He must have been too distraught by the news of his adoption to have felt this the first time. Oh well.

 

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate and the harder Jinyoung tries, the sicker in the stomach he feels, it’s like motion sickness, making him dizzy. Jackson is excitedly cheering him on, he can still tell that much, but not for much longer, he notes, as all the noises, once again, fades into the background and his eyes see white then plunges into black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully this answered some of the questions emerged from chapter 1, sorry about there being no plot, this is more of a filler chapter - and, the misunderstandings continue ... until when? we never know.  
> (also, this is jackgyeoms era, no one can tell me otherwise)  
> twitter: @ jyjbi  
> tumblr: @ jjeungri  
> (yep my dumb ass still dont know how to hyperlink :/)  
> the usual: comments, kudos, and concrit pls :D

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @/jyjbi  
> tumblr: @/jjeungri  
> feel free to ask questions  
> concrit is welcome


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